| 題名： | 長干行二首 二 |
| 作者： | 李白 |
| 憶妾深閨裏，煙塵不曾識。嫁與長干人，沙頭候風色。五月南風興，思君下巴陵。八月西風起，想君發揚子。去來悲如何，見少離別多。湘潭幾日到，妾夢越風波。昨夜狂風度，吹折江頭樹。淼淼暗無邊，行人在何處？好乘浮雲驄，佳期蘭渚東。鴛鴦綠蒲上，翡翠錦屏中。自憐十五餘，顏色桃花紅。那作商人婦，愁水復愁風。 | |
| 英譯： |
I remember that when I lived in the depths of the women's apartments
I knew nothing of the dust and dirt of the outside world.
When I married the man from Ch‘ang Kan
On the sandspit I used to watch the state of the wind,
In the fifth month the southern wind gets up,
And I used to think of you dropping down the river to Pa Ling,
In the eighth month the western wind rises,
And my heart would go out to you starting along the Yangtze.
0
I see you so little and you are so long away.
How many days will it take you to reach Hsiang T‘an?
In my dreams I ride the wind-tossed waves:
Yesterday evening a cruel wind swept across (the waters).
Its breath broke down the trees at the river mouth.
Wide, wide the dark expanse of water ruffled by the wind
And the traveller is swallowed up in it.
Oh that you could borrow a piebald steed from the floating clouds,
I would meet you east of the Orchis Island,
Just like the Mandarin duck and drake sitting beside green rushes,
Or a pair of kingfishers on an embroidered screen.
In self-pity I remember how, when I was little more than fifteen,
My complexion was red like peach blossom.
Who would be a merchant’s wife?
Fearful of waters and winds alike.
I remember that when I lived in the depths of the women’s apartments I knew nothing of the dust and dirt of the outside world. When I married the man from Ch‘ang Kan On the sandspit I used to watch the state of the wind, In the fifth month the southern wind gets up, And I used to think of you dropping down the river to Pa Ling, In the eighth month the western wind rises, And my heart would go out to you starting along the Yangtze. I see you so little and you are so long away. How many days will it take you to reach Hsiang T‘an? In my dreams I ride the wind-tossed waves: Yesterday evening a cruel wind swept across (the waters). Its breath broke down the trees at the river mouth. Wide, wide the dark expanse of water ruffled by the wind And the traveller is swallowed up in it. Oh that you could borrow a piebald steed from the floating clouds, I would meet you east of the Orchis Island, Just like the Mandarin duck and drake sitting beside green rushes, Or a pair of kingfishers on an embroidered screen. In self-pity I remember how, when I was little more than fifteen, My complexion was red like peach blossom. Who would be a merchant’s wife? Fearful of waters and winds alike. |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |